Amongst the Wolves
by Dark Fairy of Doom
Summary: Continuation of Lamb's Lamentation. Dib awakens from his adventure with Whistler changed. Not only must he deal with his new condition, he finds out he has some kind of mission. His journey will cross paths with creatures he never dared to dream of.


Konnichiwa!

People asked for a continuation of Lamb's Lamentation, so I decided to write one. This is only the first chapter. Please enjoy.

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**Amongst the Wolves**

Trial 1- Presence

Dib's body thrashed violently, slamming into the tank's sides. Restorative fluid churned and probes were torn from flesh. Blood mingled with orange, the pale form struggling in a tainted tide. There was a violent crack as he once again rammed into the container. Thin, vein-like lines sprang from the point of impact and eagerly spread as if they were liquid. The teenager's spine arched, tendons clear through taut skin. His head crashed into the side once more, the lines forming into thicker bunches. Clots sealing wounds threatened to reopen. Dark veins stood out in plain sight. Eyes rolled in their sockets. The heart pumped rapidly, adrenaline pushing its limits. A vicious tremor tore through the human, before once more slamming into the tank. The area nearly caved. Nearly.

Sensors flared brilliantly, shrill alarms sounding. Readouts flashed across the screens, blinking in mounting panic. Zim frantically typed at the keyboard, desperate to alleviate the crisis. More warnings went off, the noise growing in feverous intensity. Rubies alight with bright wildness, he whirled around to gaze at the pale human. Antennae lowered as bubbles spewed from beneath the oxygen mask, Dib now beginning to gasp for breath. The seizure continued with no end in sight. Smashing a bloodstained fist into the nearest wall, he aggressively wringed gloved hands. Gritting sharp teeth, he closed furious ruby eyes. "Uh, Master…you should really take the human out of there. A little more and the tank will collapse." It was proven right as, with a deafening crack and smash, Dib broke through the container to the ground in a twisted pile of writhing flesh and shredded shards. The teenager twisted into painful contortions on the floor, back arched and neck thrashing. Damp black hair fell in tangled masses across his face. Eyes were pinched closed behind liquid streaked glass. Muttering an Irken curse, Zim dashed forward. Growling in concerned annoyance, he straddled the writhing human and pinned his arms. He grunted as a stray limb struck him hard. Now more angered than cautious, he roughly slammed the teenager into the cold floor. That's when the screaming started.

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Whistler stood silently before the grave, a blank look present on his face. Sighing, he kneeled and laid a solitary lily on the recently overturned earth. Still kneeling, he stared listlessly at the newly shined tombstone.

_Buffy Anne Summers_

_1984-2006_

_She saved the world…a lot._

Shaking his head, he rose to his feet. Turning his back to the girl's resting place, he began to walk away. Gazing back at it once more, he gave a tired exhale. "Hope you're finally resting in peace. This time, ya better stay where ya are." Giving a teasing salute, he finally moved on. He had barely made it two feet before taunting laughter met his ears. Wheeling around, suddenly red eyes sought out the source. There was nothing for yards. Still, his suspicions were far from satisfied. This was a Slayer's grave, after all. Growling, fangs lengthened to curl over lips crafted into a snarl. Red, demonic eyes glittered in angry caution. The laughter came again, seeming to come from all sides with its ethereal ring. A deep hiss came from his throat, as unbidden chills traveled down his spine. Though he couldn't see what was producing the noise, he knew it was something that shouldn't be trifled with. Seeming to respond to his thoughts, the laughter rang again. Gritting harsh fangs, he spoke in a booming voice. "In the name of The Powers I serve, I command you to show yourself!" The laughter sounded once more, this time echoing in his bones. A deep shudder racked his frame as a voice gave him a response.

"**You are awfully full of yourself, Messenger. You might want to mind your tongue." **More of the mocking chuckles. Wind whispered through the graveyard, lightly caressing the lily laid on the grave before the demon. **"Despite what you're thinking, I have no concern with the dead Chosen One. I am here on a far different manner. A soul that has passed through The Veil holds no importance to me." **Whistler glared fiercely, though it was pointless since he had no idea where the voice was emanating from.

"If you're not here for the Slayer, what are ya doing? I really don't think you're here to visit a grave or anything." There was a tense silence, only punctuated by the quickly increasing wind. It was as if the element was trying to show him something. He foolishly ignored it. "I'm not gonna wait all day ya know. I do have stuff I have to be doing."

"Heh, you are almost amusing. Still, you are just as insufferable as the beings you serve. Always preaching about what is right and wrong, while they sit on their asses and laugh at the mortals' misfortunes. You are all a bunch of self-righteous, bigoted, morons. It really tears me up that I have had to wait so long to destroy them." At the beginning of the conversation, it had been seductive in tone, if a little arrogant. Now it was darker, more evil. Insanity permeated through each syllable. "Your latest Champion will fall. He will be the instrument for the final Apocalypse. And there won't be any little girl to stop us this time. We will win!" By the end, two voices had sounded before merging into one. Loud laughter rang through the graveyard. Wind tore through the trees, so loud it was almost screaming. Eyes wide in sudden realization, Whistler disappeared in a hasty shimmer. The kid wasn't in an enviable position.

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_Hurts. It hurts. It hurts so bad. Please…make it stop. Somebody make it stop. I…its too much. Make it go away! Anyone…please… make it go away._

Bones snapped, painfully broken, before congregating into a new, unnatural configuration. Blood boiled in his veins, churning, mixing, and trying desperately to eliminate the alien presence. Invading forest green strived to blend with the weakened red, invigorated by the fierce struggle. It was only a matter of time till the two ill-tempered liquids merged.

_What…what's happening? Why is there so much pain? Did Whistler lie? Am I really dead and in Hell? Whatever I did to deserve this, I'm sorry. Just make it stop! _

"Now, now, where's the fun in that? What would entertain me if you weren't suffering so much?" _Who…who are you? Are you the one doing this to me! Please, make it stop! _A mocking, condescending chuckle. "You should know better than to beg. I'll always give you the opposite of what you're asking for. Besides, I'm not the one who's causing the pain. More taunting chortling. "Your little Irken friend bears full responsibility for this. Oh, how sweet it is to see the birth of new hate. Especially when it concerns a victim like you." _What…what are you? What do you want? _

Deforming bones ground into transforming organs. Bile spewed from an anxious liver. Pain receptors went berserk. Nerves twitched in overload. Nails lengthened and ears shrank. Long, thin antennae grew from the skull. Eyes widened to irregular proportions, the pupils vanishing. Newly clawed appendages desperately scratched for something to strike. Veins threatened to burst. A brain, working fitfully to right itself, was close to a breakdown, as was the mind it contained.

"Oh, wouldn't you just love to know what our agenda is. Sorry, it's strictly between us." _That's not fair! Go away! Just leave me alone. Leave me alone. _" Aw, the little mortal wants us to go away! Ha, it's not that easy. We are here for a reason and we will leave when we see fit. You'll just have to deal with us till then." _I don't care about who or what you are. I just want you to…go…away. Now! "_You are just as ignorant as your guide. The two of you should really learn when to shut your filthy mouths!" It no longer sounded amused. If anything, it was infuriated. An unseen force caressed Dib's mind as the blackness of his surroundings dissipated. As his essence was unbound, he could have sworn the presence had spoken once more. "You don't realize who you're trifling with. They'll tear your soul apart." Though he knew he had heard something, he wouldn't be able to remember it.

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Zim sighed in relief once the human was strapped to a medical table. Running a clawed hand along his antennae, he finally realized he was still coated in dried blood. Making a wry face, he marched towards the nearest transport elevator. Demanding the Computer take him to the upper levels, he missed the slight movement that passed over the bound specimen. Ruby eyes closed in thought; he tiredly exited in the hall nearest to his own quarters. With an exhausted gait, he slowly walked through the doorway to his right.

The Computer restlessly shifted through the readouts' latest data. Sorting the information into neatly labeled folders, it efficiently catalogued the scores of Irken text. Medical reports on the Dib's progress went next to Zim's own. Repairs on the vat-tank were placed near the normal maintenance files. Deleting a folder filled with information on human eating habits, it was distracted by a blinking beacon that appeared on the main screen. It sighed, warily scanning for what signal it was receiving. Indignant confusion was replaced with a type of urgency. Cautiously, and hoping its master would hear it, an angry alarm sounded throughout the base.

The Invader scowled at the sight of his figure. Blood was caked thickly on his uniform, especially near his front. A combination of deep green and crimson coated him in its entirety. Antennae flattened, he roughly tugged the material from his body. Tossing it carelessly to the floor, he made his way over to a large, empty type of tub. Pushing a nearby button, tides of purple gel flooded into it. Zim grimaced at the sloshing sound it made, disgusted by its mere presence. Usually, he washed himself with a cleansing chalk. This time, though, demanded a more aggressive approach. The chalk wouldn't be enough to get the blood off. It was a shame that he had to use the gel; he despised it. It was too…gooey and gel-like. And, though he refused to admit it, it was far too similar to Earth's water. Giving an involuntary shudder, he reluctantly lowered himself into the substance. Hissing at its uncomfortable heat, he quickly began scrubbing at the dried blood. The sooner he was finished, the better. Grimacing, he relentlessly worked on a particularly stubborn stain. Gradually, the rust-colored spot started to diminish. As his attention shifted to other areas, he finally heard the blaring alarm. Grimacing, he swiped purple gel from his face and hurriedly emptied the tub. He rapidly dried the gel from his person and grabbed a random, clean uniform. Pulling it on, he quickly exited the bathing room.

GIR ran wild around the living room, falling over the furniture a total of 70 times. Its loud shrieks of happiness almost drowned out the alarm. The Invader scowled at the robot, wincing at decibels it was maintaining. His antennae pressed flat to his skull, he slowly made his way over to the transport. He wasn't up to dealing with GIR's insanity. Luck didn't seem to be with him as, with a particularly high screech, the defective SIR unit latched onto one of his legs. Cyan orbs gazed at him in adoration as the robot smiled emptily. "I'm gonna make waffles!" With another scream, he was released as it rushed into the kitchen. Used to the randomness he simply shook his head before descending down into the lower chambers.

Zim emerged in the main lab with a harsh scowl on his face. The alarms were even more piercing at this level. Eyes narrowed, he stalked over to the Computer. A bright flashing beacon dominated the screen, pulsing to draw attention. With a grimace, he pressed a button and the sirens ceased. Giving a relaxed sigh, he made a vague gesture at the monitor. The Computer hesitated before the move was repeated. "A distress signal from a downed Irken vessel was detected ten minutes ago." Ruby orbs stared incredulously at the Computer. Antennae were pricked in interest.

"Where is it coming from?" His hands clenched into fists in his anticipation. _Its been months since I've had contact with others of my kind. Ugh, far too much time to be alone with the dirty pig-smellies. _He smiled viciously; hope a poison burning his ruby eyes down to a somber scarlet. If he could make contact, he just might be able to gain his way back in the Tallest' graces. He could already picture how wondrous it would be to not be abandoned amongst the filthy humans. He skillfully ignored any prompting his mind made towards the Dib, conveniently forgetting his own desperate efforts to save the earthen child. Shaking with silent mirth and cheer, he turned feral eyes to the Computer. "Where?"

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He crawled from flaming wreckage, lime-green skin painted an eerie orange in the flickering light cast off the blaze. Deep emerald blood ran down his face, oozing into his shirt and dripping across his fevered flesh. He attempted to shake the droplets away from his teal eyes, his sight obscured by his life fluid. He managed to move his head in an awkward jerk, a bent antennae flopping feebly as its position was altered. His body, up until this point supported on hands and knees, crashed weakly to the ground. He groaned at impact, hidden sores screaming in protesting agony. Jagged teeth tore into his lip as he tried, only half-successfully, to repress further sounds of pain. Grunting, he haphazardly struggled to return to kneeling. He got to his knees, but his exerted arms couldn't cope with his weight. He kneeled in that manner, head burrowed into his limp arms. His breath was shaky and uneven, a wheezing gasp distinct beneath the louder overtones. His vision began to blur, teal orbs glazing in mounting inactivation. He could almost feel his internal systems shutting down, his pak overriding his natural impulses to continue functioning. His body would go into a type of stasis, the connectors binding him to the pak perpetually maintaining an energy current throughout his cells. The rest would permit the machine to focus on repairing damage instead of prolonging his awareness. Already his nerves were being disconnected, feeling in his limbs now fleeting. Drowsy, both from exhaustion and stress, he lowered his body back down to the ground. A substance almost like adrenaline dribbled into his bloodstream, gently calming his anxiety. His muscles relaxed, tendons unwinding from where they'd been clenched in distress. He slowly closed his eyes, his view practically dulled to nothing. He quietly embraced the lull of sleep, all tension fleeing his form.

Eyes stared at the sprawled Irken, gaze cunning and thoughtful. A sneer worked itself across its expression, his musings having taken an unpleasant turn. It hissed to itself, enraged by its doubts. Everything would be fine. No one would take this away. Slightly reassured, it emerged from its hiding spot and stalked to the vulnerable prey. It grinned at the sight of the alien's unconsciousness, pleased with how easy things seemed to be going. Forcing his giddiness to recede, he gave a sharp, precise gesture with his right hand. A group of men appeared from the surrounding area, swarming onto the crash site. He simply turned away, a greatly achieved smirk on his face.

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Zim surveyed the terrain spread out beneath him, ruby orbs narrowed to thin slits. He couldn't afford to miss anything. This was the best chance he had to make contact and he wasn't going to do anything, foolish or otherwise, to threaten its success. An antenna pricked forward at the sight of deep black plumes of smoke. He immediately turned the Voot in that direction, fingers holding the controls in a steely grip. He sped as fast as was semi-safely allowed and soon arrived at the impact zone. An ancient oak tree, old even to those native to the area, was cut in two, branches littering the forest floor. A deep groove was worn into the earth, drudging up mud, stones, and large boulders. At its end was a huge crater, metal bits scattered about. His gaze alert, he noticed that any signs of Irken technology were gone. Someone else had gotten here first.

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_Images flashed through his mind, sheering in their intensity. A large, leopard-like, cat crouched before her mate, fangs bared and violet blood staining her flank. She tensed then bounded forward to engage. A young boy, eyes a strange silver-blue, staring emptily at the air. A warm eyed boy joined him, crimson orbs shining with cheer and good will. A screech, more chilling than ice, and claws more powerful than titanium. A war cry and a dizzying spiral. "They're going to tear you apart. But only if you let them. Good Luck." Nothing but shades of grey. _

Dib gasped awake, bright amber eyes alight with confused fear. He stared at the ceiling; distantly realizing everything around him was too clearly defined. He shouldn't be able to see this well without his glasses. Growing both calm and bored, he moved to sit up. At least, he tried to. Metallic bands hindered his ascension, pinning his arms and legs to whatever he was lying on. Momentarily afflicted with blind panic, he writhed against his captor. The bands tore in his flesh, red-green blood breaking free. He ignored the sting, more fearful of being restrained than of injury. He continued to struggle, until a firm hand stilled him. He halted, glaring at whoever it was. He blinked incredulously at Whistler, bewildered by the guide's presence. He opened his mouth to speak, quickly cringing at the burning caused by the act. His throat felt as though it were on fire, the nerves overly sensitized. His skin was extremely sensitive as well, permitting him to be able to feel the sensation of the bands, the feeling of the stagnant, sterile air running over his flesh. He started to shake, limbs trembling. Dark eyes stared at him in distant sympathy as Whistler freed him from the binds.

He quickly sat up, only to curl into himself as his muscles seized in pain. He hissed, clutching his knees to his chest. Tremors tore through his body, joints aching. His breath was ragged, coming in unstable pants. His fingers dug into the fabric of his trousers, cutting into the black jeans. He felt a light prick as his skin was penetrated but did nothing; it wasn't anything compared to everything else he was experiencing. Large hands wrapped around his forearm and lower back, helping to hold him upright. He shuddered at the touch, the sudden warmth unexpected. Still unsteady, he turned to gaze at the messenger, not caring about how pathetic he must seem. He stared in black eyes, which reflected a strange kind of remorse. He stopped, nervous at how the demon was looking at him. Whistler felt him tense and quietly released him from his hold. "Now, kid, ya need to stay calm. Everything's just fine." Dib, far from comforted, immediately moved away. One hand, in an old habit of anxiety, went to run through his hair. When fingers met something long and smooth, he froze. Restless, they slowly ran the length of the obstruction, examining it with a detached, purely clinical air. His other hand, no longer idle, joined in the observation. Forming a theory, an impossible one, he began shaking his head in denial. He shoved the demon away and clumsily rose to his feet. He swayed, crashing down to the cold floor. He pushed himself up to his forearms, the rest of his form ascending at a slower pace. He clung to random objects for support, stumbling across the room. He slammed into the floor once more, right next to what he'd been questing for. His reflection stared back at him, slightly distorted from the monitor's round surface. His eyes flashed in denial, finger reaching forward to caress the inversion of his face.

_This…this can't be happening. _

TBC

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Preview:

He glared at the Invader; eyes dulled to a shine less amber. He growled in primitive rage, claws digging into his palms. Gaze filled with an unspeakable urge for violence, he continually maintained eye contact. Despite his own misgivings, Zim was unable to turn away; it was as though he were hypnotized, unwilling to turn his back on the grotesque display laid out before him. Dib hissed in enraged malice, moving disturbingly close to the Irken. "I hate you," he breathed. "I despise you far more than you could ever imagine."

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I know that, as a beginning, this is probably really boring. And everything's going really slow. Sorry if I bored you. The next part should be up soon, but no guarantees. I have finals, starting the ninth, so I'll be extremely busy. Please, whether you liked or hated it, review. Thanks for reading. 


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